


The Choice

by Emerald447



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Forced Voyeurism, Fuck Or Die, Kidnapping, Voyeurism, non con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald447/pseuds/Emerald447
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moriarty's game is a cruel one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Choice

**Author's Note:**

> First story ever for the Sherlock fandom. I am sorry if it may seem a little OOC. Harsh themes, so please beware. Thank you.

The throbbing in John’s head was incomparable to the anger he felt when he awoke.

“John? John, are you alright?”

He squinted his eyes to see Sherlock looking down at him. John automatically nodded out of habit. He rubbed his head and sat upright, his eyesight dizzy for a moment.

“Where are we?” he asked.

For once, Sherlock was silent. He didn’t say anything. He just stared at him. Which meant, that Sherlock didn’t know where they were. And that was bad. Straight away, John felt a lump form in his stomach.

John didn’t remember for a moment how they had come to be here. They were in Baker Street, drinking a well-deserved cup of tea after solving a case. He remembered, vaguely, shouting coming from downstairs. They had come into Baker Street so fast, and drugged them both with a dirty cloth before anybody could speak.

“Do you know how long we’ve been here?” asked John.

“I only just woke three minutes before you.” He said back.

Before they could speak any longer, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the door.

John slowly stood up, his leg and head protesting silently, before their kidnapper entered.

It was Moriarty, of course. John had figured that much in the 10 seconds he had been awake.

But this was different. Very different, and John observed the look on Sherlock’s face as he entered the room, the door closing behind them. In Moriarty’s grasp was a young girl, John estimated no older than 21, her tear strained face struck in complete horror.

John knew at that second, that they had to play this right. They were not the only hostages.

“Evening.” Said Moriarty with a smile. Sherlock just nodded back, not paying any attention to the girl at the moment. John tried resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Moriarty’s completely calm and half amused face.

“Who’s this then?” asked John, giving the girl a somewhat compassionate look. She didn’t return it, and fresh tears flowed down her cheeks.

Moriarty looked towards the girl he grasped, and smiled again.

“This? Oh, nobody special. Just somebody off the street.”

“If she’s not special, then what is she doing here?” asked Sherlock.

“Insurance.” He said plainly. “To make sure you do what I want you to do.”

They didn’t respond to the taunt.

“What is it you want?” Sherlock continued.

Moriarty grinned, and flung the girl towards him. Sherlock caught her in his arms quickly. She shook and whimpered as he guided her to the floor. John moved straight over to her, taking over from Sherlock’s grasp.

“It’s alright, I’m a doctor.”

Moriarty giggled like a schoolgirl. Sherlock stood back up, eyeing the man in front of them carefully.

“Are you alright?” whispered John softly.

The girl managed to nod. Moriarty put his finger over his lips and hushed them. It was pathetic.

“You know Sherlock, it’s so nice to have you back. Really, I’ve missed you quite a lot.” He said whilst chewing his gum obnoxiously loud.

John did roll his eyes as he stood back up next to Sherlock.

“And what could you possibly want?” asked Sherlock, quite calmly.

“You. Well, actually, not you, if you get what I mean.” He chuckled.

John cocked his eyebrow. Sherlock just nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Moriarty frowned.

“We’ll see.”

The two exchanged stares, while John observed both of them, tying to ignore the whimpering girl on the floor.

“Do you like games, Sherlock?” he asked suddenly.

“Depends.”

“John, how about you?”

“I don’t know.” He said plainly.

Moriarty's face stayed unchanged, although his eyes still looked amused.

“What if I told you, Sherlock, that in order for John and the girl to be released right now, you would have to kill yourself?”

“It’s obviously not going to be that simple.”

“Oh, but it is.”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed again. John started to panic.

“Sherlock-“

“It’s alright John.” Interrupted Sherlock. “Nobody is going to die today.”

“Well, if that’s how you want to play the game, sure.” Said moriarty.

“I don’t understand.” Said John.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. But I’m in no rush. It’s all dependable on what you choose.” He smiled, before adding with a wink, “Just trying to spice things up.”

“So, what’s option number two?” asked John suddenly.

“Ooh, I like eager!” He rubbed his hands together before nodding to the girl on the floor.

“I figured that much.” Said Sherlock, plainly. “What about her?”

Moriarty was silent, before walking over to them, and kneeling down to the girl’s level. He stroked her cheek as she pried away from his touch, before looking towards John.

“When was the last time you had a really nice shag?”

At that, Sherlock’s eyes slowly closed, anger building up in his cheeks. John covered his hand on his face, rubbing his eyes as he realised what the terms of this agreement may entail. The girl started to cry, before Moriarty put his hand over her mouth, hushing her like a baby. Her eyes were enough to tell what emotions she was thinking.

“You can’t be serious.” Said John quickly. Sherlock was still silent.

“But wait, you haven’t heard the rules!” Moriarty said quite enthusiastically, jumping up from the girl.

Sherlock gave him the dirtiest look John had ever seen.

“You get to choose who it is! You, John, or myself.” A wide grin spread across his face at the expression on the men’s faces. John wanted to vomit right there.

“So, you want me to either kill myself, or choose who should subject torture on an innocent girl?”

Moriarty shrugged. “If you put it that way, yah.” Another grin. “I’m pretty sure I know what you’re going to choose, but it’s so fun to watch you work it out!”

Sherlock tried to stay calm. John could see it.

“What if I refuse both options?”

“Oh, no, it’s one or the other. If not, you’re going to be here for quite a while, and then, who knows, I might get bored and just kill you all.” 

Sherlock just nodded understandingly, before suddenly swooping down to the girl’s level and grabbing her shoulders.

“Listen to me, you need to tell me if you remember anything before you got here? Were you conscious? Is there anything specific you remember about this building, perhaps what’s outside?”

She shook her head frantically as Moriarty laughed loudly. Sherlock ignored him.

“N…no.”

“Are you sure? Anything! A smell, a sign, a building?”

She shook her head.

“Sherlock, stop.” Said John, putting a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock stared at the girl before nodding and standing back up.

“Cute.” Said Moriarty plainly.

The girl had gone silent against the wall, and looked quite pale. Moriarty rolled on the balls of his feet, as if he were waiting for a bus.

John weighed the options. Sherlock, kill himself? That wasn’t going to happen. Moriarty knew that. They really only had one choice.

Sherlock turned back around. He walked towards the girl and knelt back down to her level.

“What is your name?”

She hesitated, before simply replying “Emma.”

He nodded. Staring at her for a moment.

“How old are you?” Interrupted John.

“I can answer that one.” Voiced Moriarty. Sherlock turned around, his eyes darkening.

“Nineteen.” He said. “I do my research.”

John felt himself go faint. She was young. Way too young. He didn’t know what to do. And by the looks of it, Sherlock didn’t have much of an idea either. What else were they suppose to do? Moriarty had set the terms to the “game”. They had no phones and no weapons. Moriarty obviously had people to deal with them if they didn’t cooperate. The only way out was to choose an option.

His thoughts were interrupted. The girl started sobbing, loudly, her breathing quickening. She was absolutely terrified.

John and Sherlock exchanged unforgettable glances. John had his fists balled tight. He was angry with Moriarty, more than he had ever been before – and that’s coming from someone he had strapped in explosives.

“So, if you want to get out of here, you may as well choose.” Moriarty sung out all too casually.

John looked over to him.

“Will you shut up!” he shouted.

Moriarty faked a gasp, before smiling again.

“Johnny’s getting anxious.”

“Yes, well not as anxious as her!” He pointed to Emma on the ground.

He simply shrugged his shoulders, winking back to the girl on the floor. She whimpered again. John had had enough.

“You’re disgusting.” He said out loud.

“John, that’s enough.” Said Sherlock, finally coming out of his silent thought. John turned around, his gaze suddenly changing.

“You want us too choose?” asked Sherlock. “You knew I wouldn’t kill myself. And I’m quite certain that she doesn’t want the death of a human being on her shoulders. Am I right?” His gaze softened as he turned to Emma, which John was surprised about. It also made him worried. She sobbed, before taking a deep breath in.

“Please…don’t kill yourself.” She whispered. It was barely audible, however everybody in the room heard it.

Gosh, she was brave.

Moriarty smirked.

“Half of the decision has been made!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air as if it were a victory. John gave him another dirty stare.

“So, Sherlock, I assume you’ve made the decision on behalf of everybody?” Moriarty asked as he composed himself, the smile on his face wider than ever. Sherlock took a deep breath of air before turning to his friend.

“John, would you be able to have forced sexual intercourse in these conditions?”

John gaped at the blunt question. He didn’t know what to say, and he couldn’t look at the girl.

“I’ll take that as a no.” he said before anybody could reply.

Moriarty was listening intently.

“And I have to say, neither could I.”

“Sherlock…” started John.

“Physically, John. Physically. I couldn’t. It would be long and tedious and painful for everybody.”

“And you’re saying it’s not going to be painful for her?” he whispered, trying to be discrete as possible. John could hear her breath hitch behind him.

“John.” He said annoyed. “I would rather walk away from here with one injured individual, not two. In fact, walking out of here at all? That is definitely on my agenda!”

The room fell silent. Sherlock wiped a stray tear away from his eyes.

“Do you think that was an easy decision?”

Again, silence.

“Well, Dr. Watson, what’s the verdict?” asked Moriarty, still chewing away at his gum. John hesitated, before swallowing. He agreed that, practically, neither he nor Sherlock would be the best choice. However, he was trying to think of the girl. Would Moriarty hurt her? At least with either Sherlock or himself, they could be gentle.

But either way, she would be traumatized. And so would they. It would be better to make the situation somewhat easier for one party.

John just hoped she would understand that.

He nodded silently.

Sherlock strolled over to the girl and kneeled back down to her level.

“I am truly sorry.” He whispered.

She stared back at him, into his eyes. John thought he saw a mutual understanding between the two. It didn’t stop fresh tears running lines down her cheeks, as she looked back petrified to Moriarty.

“John.” Said Sherlock suddenly standing up and putting his hands above his head.

“What-” he started, before he saw the red dot aimed right at Sherlock’s chest. He looked down, and saw a red dot aimed at his own chest as well. Both men put their hands up.

"Step away now." said Mortiarty. His tone had changed. It was dark and serious. Sherlock slowly took four steps back towards John, his hands still raised.

“You said nobody would die.” John shouted loudly.

Moriarty pretended to be hurt.

“Boys, please, chill. It’s just so you know not to interfere.” He smiled as the red dots disappeared.

He strolled over to the girl and extended his hand, and then frowned when she didn’t take it. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She started to squirm and squeal as he grabbed her by the waist and bought her closer to him. She had stockings and a skirt on, so that made it harder for Moriarty to undress her. He tried to hook his fingers into the stockings, but it was no use.

Sherlock could see him becoming frustrated. All he wanted to do was shout out and tell her to relax, but even he knew that was completely inappropriate. He didn’t want to scar the girl anymore. At that moment, Moriarty pulled out his gun and placed it to her temple.

“Wait!” shouted both Sherlock and John at the same time. They needn’t have said anymore, for she stopped squirming immediately. Her squeals were reduced to heavy breaths.

“We had a deal.” Moriarty said darkly, pushing the gun into her head. She closed her eyes in panic as his hands trailed down under her skirt, hooking the stockings successfully.

“If you do not do as you are told, I will shoot every single one of you. I will shoot you first, and then I’ll make them both fuck your dead body. Do you understand that, honey?”

She was petrified. John could see she was on the verge of fainting.

“Please…please, please.” She whispered. John lost count of how many times, but before he did, he had already gotten the stockings all the way off.

For Moriarty, the next part was easier. He simply hooked his fingers into her underwear and ripped them off. They were ruined, as he tore them away, ripped apart by the force.

She was now only slightly struggling; merely showing she was not willingly participating in any of it. She knew if she tried to hurt him, he would hurt her back.

John turned away as Moriarty unbuttoned his black trousers.

“Turn back around.” Said Moriarty quickly. John turned back.

“Don’t make me shoot her.” He whispered. Sherlock nodded to John sympathetically. He himself had gone pale.

None was spoken as he unzipped his black pants. She was petrified with fear in his arms before he slipped into her. She screamed and cried, shaking her head, pleading to Sherlock and John for help. Her arms flailed out in front of her, reaching out.

It was one of the most excruciating experiences John had ever encountered in his life. John shifted his gaze to Sherlock who was watching the scene. His eyes were sad, his breathing quickened. Never had John seen him so vulnerable. Sherlock had seen many dreadful things in his life, however a teenage girl being raped in front of him was a first.

Moriarty held her close against his body, her back to his chest as he quickened his pace, whispering vulgar sayings into her ear. Sherlock glanced over to John and noticed his hands clenched, his knuckles white. Every now and again, he would jerk his head to the side, before quickly turning back in fear Moriarty would notice.

“This is all their fault, you know.” Said Moriarty into the girl’s ear. “They chose this. They’d rather me fuck you than die.”

“Shut up.” Said John, deadly quiet.

Moriarty was still standing while raping her. Her head was rolling onto his shoulder as he pumped into her, tears staining his expensive jacket. He grabbed her chin and forced it to the front.

“Look at them.” He said. “Look.”

Her eyes flickered to the both of them before Moriarty finally gasped and it was over. He slumped forward, grabbing her around the waist to steady himself, before letting go. She stumbled again and fell before John or Sherlock could catch her. As they went to help, Moriarty raised his gun again, still catching his breath.

“Leave her.” He said, buckling his pants before straightening himself out. Sherlock and John stayed still.

Moriarty circled her on the ground before emptying another pocket to reveal their phones. He walked away, placed them on a ledge of the wall, and winked.

“See you soon, Sherlock.”

And he left. Just like that.

They waited five seconds in silence to see if anything else happened.

Nothing did.

They swooped down to the ground. Sherlock removed his long coat and draped it over her, before reaching for their phones. John kneeled down to her and put his hand on her head, hushing her. She was whimpering, and breathless, but finally safe.

“It’s okay, we’re going to get you out of here.”

He heard Mycroft on the phone and sighed in relief.

 

They left the room, and then the building before anybody arrived. Sherlock picked her up in his arms and carried her, John hobbling next to them. It was an old, deserted building, perhaps a factory years and years back. Sherlock could feel her shivering in his arms as they walked down the corridors, the icy air bouncing off the brick walls. She had her head huddled in his scarf to his chest, occasionally sobbing.

They finally walked out. It had turned dark and they could now see their breath as they walked. Mycroft and Lestrade had just arrived, along with Donavon pacing behind them. Their looks were inconceivable. Police passed them by as they entered the crime scene.

“Are you okay?” asked Lestrade. They didn’t answer.

Sherlock carried her all the way to the ambulance without a word, his arms starting to stiffen, even though her small frame was light. He went to unfold her from himself, when she clutched tighter for one more moment and whispered in his ear.

He let her go and took a deep breath in as John turned to him, pale, shaky and holding back tears.

“What did she say?” he asked.

Sherlock turned back to him, a haunting expression on his face.

“She said, “You made the right choice”.


End file.
